Five of Nine

I don’t have a typical mother relationship with my mom. Exaggerated by the fact that I grew up separated from her, I feel I grew up courting her approval in a way that I never had to do with my dad. We are so alike in many ways, my mom. We share the same birth month (only 6 days apart). We both fall under the chinese zodiac, Horse. We share the same passion for work and family. So you would imagine that I have me as my own mother.

We hide our true feelings (on guard always). We are addicted to work (no rehab for us). We both love to travel. We are earnest with our spirituality. We weep at our own sad stories. Our houses are filled with sentimental icons that only we understand why. We love like martyrs. Our health fails us when we are stressed. We push people to the edge and most of all we love the sound of keyboards clicking as we chat long distance. We think with our fingers typing.

You might believe it is easy to have a melt down with someone you know so well (like a second skin) but a hug can be awkward between us. No fibs. Touching does make one vulnerable and I’d rather keep that safe distance. Accepting the fact that I was conceived at a time when hell broke lose between my dad and grandmother, I never felt a lack of love though. Mommy was always there to support me despite hormonal episodes during my teenage years (didn’t we all).

Funny how I prayed my life would take a turn different from the path Mom took. (a nomad perhaps, anything different to what she has done) Yet, I find myself trekking the corporate slave world just like she did. We joke about how much our lives have become a twin of sorts. I am closest to her when we are miles apart while I clam up when we are face to face. Like a string, it is family that keeps us together – my sister, dad, my sons, my aunts, my uncle. It is their lives that makes it to our conversation.

Being far from home, I realized after a lot of analyzing (as if), that our email exchanges are far more intense than the kisses and hugs that I have longed for. We have made up for lost time. When I say I love her, I meant it more than when I say this to her during Mother’s day in Cebu. Distance is the curative to the yearnings of a daughter. I now have her on chat every time I get home (whereas we only had Sundays to spare in Cebu). I feel her now because we chat openly, we have loosened up and let our guards down. We take care not to cross the line we know we should not cross. Our delicate space. We are comfortable this way, us Horse March born.

And why am I writing this down? Because like the sun and moon, love after all cannot be contained. Despite the oddity with my relationship with Mom, I do love her profoundly and I mean it. We just have a one of a kind way of showing it. =)

Four of Nine

My bestfriend always tease me about how weird my choices of men are and I can only agree.  We would laugh about it and when I think of her I think of the bad choices I have had. Why does she have to be so brutally frank and right all along.  She after all was witness to how I daydreamed and flamed this neighbor of ours. His family had an eccentric collection of cars. They had this old vintage cart of a wagon and a lowered sports car that opens from the side up. Several summers were spent planning on how to get to know him discretely.  I was beyond head over heels – super in love with what he represented more than what he looked like I would later believe so. He was dark, budlat eyed and had a name that was taken from his grandfather and father so he was #3 and his brother #4. He was at least 3 years my senior. I went to the same university he went to and fortunately & unfortunately got the chance to be part of his circle of friends. From there, everything went into rubbish. My prince turned into a toad. He was worst than I was - in the social department that is. Other than his car, he had nothing on him to merit a second look. Thank God for corrective glasses. I can only blame myself for wasting a lot of summers on him. Believe me, he was such a waste. Seeing him now proved it even so.

Next came the replacement. Met him at an afternoon disco place. Drag racer, chinese and moneyed. Tall, plays volleyball, babe magnet.  I felt so proud being related to him. At one point, there were several of us in the same school dating him. I didn’t mind the competition. But as it turned out, he was never serious with anyone. He was going to marry someone from his race. He just wanted to play around before the fixed marriage happens. He is so not worth it. I wasted so much time on him. I should have dated the same number he dated and that would have made it even and I would have looked less of a cast from “Mano Po”.

But that did not stop me from having even worst relationships. I dated a younger man (penshoppe model at that) because my gay friends wanted to get closer to him. They played the role of cupid but someone came along.

Then I dated a singles for christ follower. I attended fellowships and bible reading with him. I thought that would have made him a saint but he was a 2 timer too and it made me lose my sanity to think that there was always a third wheel behind relationships that I thought were made to last.

And others followed, drug addict, babaero, praning, babaero…

My bestfriend have never married and I think that was because of all the pain she saw me go through.  Not just mine but other friends as well.

She is god mother to Insoy and goes out with Yang when I am not around. She protects me like crazy even to the point of fighting with a sales girl who she thought was flirting with my man. When I remember her, I remember all the wrong choices of men in my life and I am glad that she thinks Yang makes up for all the bad choices.  Or so at least she makes it a point now to interfere and watch both of us like mad.

And to the men who bonded our friendship, thank you for giving us a conversation piece that will last a lifetime.  You had a tiny bit of use after all.